Credo
by jda
Summary: Grissom doesn't know what he believes anymore. Story is slightly angsty, but none of the team dies or anything.


Hi everyone! So here I am again writing ficlets (okay, maybe this is a drabble times two or something . . . ) And in case anyone's wondering, "Monologue of a Dead Man" doesn't have any more chapters (because frankly, I have no idea where to go from there!)  
  
Standard disclaimer: Don't own anything if seen on the show, may inadvertently use someone else's ideas in my story, so I apologize right now. I think you know the rest.  
  
Summery: Um, I still have to make the story up in the next two seconds! Although I do know (or at least I think I know) that this is a sort of character study on Grissom : )  
  
Spoilers: "Alter Boys" in season two (although anything up to the end of season three is fair game)  
  
And one last note, this story in no way, shape or form is meant as a mockery to any type of religious organization, church, or belief. This is taken from a Roman Catholic's point of view, since in that episode, they refer to Grissom as being something like a relapsed Catholic.  
  
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To say that there was God in Vegas was like saying that the Sahara Desert had just turned into a small sea due to an excessive amount of rain falling. Grissom always held that notion firmly in the forefront of his mind. That sentiment echoed through his head every time the night shift was called out to the body of a child, a battered woman, or someone caught in the middle of something gone horribly wrong. He remembered telling the priest in that church how he believed in God, but he didn't believe in religion.  
  
Tonight he couldn't reaffirm his beliefs as he and Warrick bent down to examine the badly decomposed corpse of a girl, a baby really, who could not have been any more than three years old. He fought silently against the tears that threatened to come streaming out of his eyes. He had a job to do, set an example for the younger CSI's, mostly Sara. His sorrow and his mortification would have to wait until later when he was safely within the confines of his house.  
  
"Hey, Griss," Warrick called out from the other end of the room, "Looks like our suspect left a bit of himself here."  
  
"They always do," Grissom replied, mostly to himself rather that to the benefit of anyone else. How the baby sitter could lose track of a child was something of a mystery to him. In other words, he didn't believe the story he was presented with.  
  
"You want me to bag this?" Sara asked as she stepped through the door, holding a sweater crawling with bugs. "Suspect could have left it here in his haste."  
  
"Yeah," he replied, "We can set up a timeline, possibly get when this kid was murdered."  
  
"Whoa, Griss, you're jumping to conclusions!" Warrick declared in surprise. It wasn't commonplace that his boss did something like that. "Never assume. You can't verify if it was murder from just looking at the scene. I mean, it could have been an accident, and whoever was taking care of this baby just freaked and didn't call 9-1-1."  
  
"Kids just don't drop dead!" Grissom retorted vehemently. Upon seeing Warrick and Sara's drawn faces, he immediately felt bad and apologized for his actions. His colleagues just waved it off and continued in their quest for evidence that they hoped would lead them to the truth.  
  
"Grissom," Sara stated quietly, almost like she was afraid to speak, as they loaded the evidence into their Tahoe, "Maybe you should be taken off this case. You're taking it too personally."  
  
He whirled around, confusion written all over his face, questioning whether or not he had heard Sara right. "Did you just say what I think you said?" he demanded. It didn't go unnoticed by him that she had started to back away from him towards Warrick.  
  
"Griss, you're always telling us that the case can't get personal, for no reason. That we run the risk of screwing it up if we're in too deep," Warrick interceded for Sara, "We can see how this case is affecting you. Hell, we know that you hate crimes against kids, but this is just pushing your limits. So, what I'm trying to say is, you either remove yourself from this case, or I'm going to have to ask Catherine to remove you from it. It's your call, Griss."  
  
To Grissom, those statements from his people, the people whose skills had been honed by his care, were like hard blows to the heart.  
  
"Griss," Sara interrupted his thoughts quietly, "You know you wouldn't hesitate to remove me, or Warrick, or Nick, or Catherine from a case if you saw us going over the edge. We're just doing the same for you." He opened his mouth to object, on any number of fronts, be Sara held her hand up and silenced him with a sharp look. "You say that this kid was murdered," she stated plainly, "Then trust me and Warrick to find the killer ourselves. You trust us, right?"  
  
"Sara, you just can't-" Grissom began.  
  
"Do you trust us?" Sara repeated.  
  
"Sara, Warrick, this case-"  
  
"Do you trust us Grissom?" Warrick demanded. Silence. "Answer the question!"  
  
"Yes," Grissom replied in resignation, realizing the futility of an argument with the two strongest willed people on his team.  
  
"Good to know you still have faith in our abilities," Warrick joked dryly. He was rewarded by a weak smile from his boss. "I hear that Catherine and Nick could use some help with their 419 at the Tangiers."  
  
Grissom's smile, however small, disappeared from his face when he realized that the other two would not allow him to work this crime scene. Sara noticed the change in his facial expression. "You said you trust us Griss. That's saying a lot, but how much do you trust us? Do you trust us enough to solve this on our own?"  
  
He knew that they were trying to be as diplomatic as possible, prolonging the inevitable when they would have to force him from this case.  
  
"Grissom?" Warrick asked worriedly, breaking into the silence that had followed Sara's question.  
  
"Yes," he said simply.  
  
"So you will take yourself off this case?" Sara asked cautiously, "You won't try to solve it behind our backs?"  
  
"Yes and yes."  
  
"Good, and we promise that we'll do everything in our power to find out the truth. 'The truth shall set you free', right?" Grissom had to smile at Sara's imitation of a preacher's tone.  
  
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Sara and Warrick solved the case within a week, putting in as much overtime as they were allowed, never leaving the lab for the whole seven days except to return to their crime scene. Grissom was slightly flattered by the dedication with which they tested every single piece of pertinent evidence, ran through thousands of scenarios, went over the body with a fine toothed comb. He supposed that they were doing that for him, to give him some sense of closure, as well as the families of the baby victim, Ramona Pimintel.  
  
He was sitting in his office, brooding darkly over what made people turn into animals and kill another human being. He didn't even have a second to react when both Sara and Warrick burst through his door. Their next words, spoken in unison, were music to his ears, "We've got him!  
  
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He sat at the back of the church. The priest stood up, beckoning the congregation to do so as well. "Let us say the words of faith," he intoned.  
  
The people began the familiar chant, "I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth . . ." As they continued to drone on, Grissom recalled how as a child and a young man, he said these words, but never said them with conviction. Now, standing here, at Ramona's funeral mass, he realized that for the first time in his life, he heard the words, really heard them. What he also realized, with a jolt of surprise, was that he believed in them too.  
  
"Credo," he whispered to himself, "I believe."  
  
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Okay, so I hope I haven't offended anyone (that completely was not my intention!)  
  
And I do realize that Grissom is a bit out of character, but I was hoping that you would take it in stride with the fact that he pretty much freaked out in "Gentle, Gentle" (season one) when he found the baby, etc.  
  
And I'm not too sure about the ending, it sounds sort of off (but I can't place my finger on it) And yes, just in case you're wondering, "credo" is Latin for "I believe". (The creed that I have above is the beginning of the Apostle's Creed)  
  
Please review! 


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